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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24524740">A work of art</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Get_below_my_line_of_vision/pseuds/Get_below_my_line_of_vision'>Get_below_my_line_of_vision</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Les Misérables - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Artist Grantaire, Character Death, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 09:00:31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,589</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24524740</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Get_below_my_line_of_vision/pseuds/Get_below_my_line_of_vision</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Grantaire is in the university library, bored. He looks up and sees an inspiration to draw: a charming, handsome student reading. He smiles to himself as he observes him but he can't explain why the student from across the room looks so familiar.</p><p>Then the student looks up. He notices him.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Enjolras/Grantaire (Les Misérables)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>68</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The present day</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>As this is a reincarnation AU, I will be describing their deaths in the June Rebellion. If you don’t like reading about deaths, skip chapter 2.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>University was supposed to be the time to discover oneself, venture out, have an adventure, then magically return with a career goal. Evidently this wasn’t the case for Grantaire. In fact, university life was boring. It was like living in a loop. He woke up, hung out with his friends, then came back to his dorm, then closed his eyes, hoping the next day would be different.</p><p>This time it was Jehan Grantaire decided to hang out with, and they were always in the library, reading poetic books. So, Grantaire pulled out his sketchbook. There was hardly anything in them. Drawing meant inspiration. Inspiration meant giving a shit. And look, Grantaire had none.</p><p>He sighed as he tapped his pencil repeatedly on the paper. Jehad had waddled off to find another pile of book which he would vacuum up with his absorbent brain thereby leaving Grantaire alone. As always, when he felt he was all by himself, he listened to music through his earphones. He would shuffle endlessly, not caring if the music could be heard by others in the library- it wasn’t like it was completely silent anyway.</p><p>Quickly, he glanced up from his phone, then he saw him. A blonde student who was sitting on the wide window sill, his back to the window as he flicked through the pages with thought as his eyebrows furrowed due to immense concentration he donated.<br/>
He was a student he believed he had seen before. If not, it couldn’t explain why Grantaire recognised him. He was sure he didn’t share any classes with the man, yet there was a slight sense of recognition he could not ignore. His heart began to ache, but not of misery nor pain, but of… something different.</p><p>Finding something to stare at in awe, he wished to preserve the beauty that was before his eyes. As if snapping out of a trance, he began to sketch. He drew curly hair that would dangle in front of his light eyes. He let the pencil travel down to his neck, then to his chest, drawing with some frequent glances to see the man in front of him.</p><p>It was strange. It was as if his hand knew how the man looked before his eyes landed on the student. That was also excluding the oddness of the fact that his hand was so well-navigated and made no mistakes in the tracing, as if all he ever drew up to this point was the man. Grantaire thought this was impossible. Astonished by the ease of art, Grantaire lifted his eyes to see the student once more. He made sure he could capture every detail as he could. How the sunlight embraced his hair, and how his fingers were so delicate on the book, and how his leg was dangling carelessly from the window sill. He took all of it in, sure that he was never going to forget such a sight.</p><p>The man flicked another page and while doing so his face became relaxed. Grantaire’s heart ached again. To distract himself from what he thought was the result of his unhealthy diet, he made up characteristics for the man. There was no harm in doing so as he would never meet him again.<br/>
Grantaire shaded his hair and thought, this man was rich. He then shaded his eyes as he thought, this man knew exactly what kind of future he wanted. He shaded his shadows on his neck, this man was a leader.<br/>
He chuckled to himself as he found it funny how all this information was so easy to fabricate. At this moment, he thought he was just being incredibly creative.</p><p>He dropped his sketchbook once more to observe the man carefully. What else could he imagine about his life?</p><p>Then as if sensing his presence, or perhaps having heard Grantaire’s stifled laughter, the man looked up, which caused Grantaire to hurriedly look back at his sketchbook. </p><p>His heartbeats were loud and he felt heat surround him, his cheeks red with embarrassment. He overacted by exaggerating his concentrated face as he began to shade the face. Crap. With thoughts fighting over his attention, he had forgotten how the student looked.<br/>
By estimation, it had been about thirty seconds since he last was staring at him. So, Grantaire assumed the man would’ve lost care by now, and thus it was safe for him to look at him again. For the painting, he thought to himself. </p><p>But when he looked up, the student had disappeared. Shit, he scared the man away. Annoyed at his half-finished sketch, Grantaire immediately stood up and buried his face in his hands. He was so stupid and creepy. He sighed loudly and decided he was going to find Jehan; he needed someone who was grounded in reality to talk to.</p><p>As he shifted, a voice emerged from behind him. “Wow, that sketch is actually pretty good- insane detail.”<br/>
Grantaire almost jumped back and gasped. He swore under his breath and slowly rotated his head around to see the student behind him. “Hi,” He tried to avoid eye contact.<br/>
“Hello,” The man casually said. “I’m Enjolras.”<br/>
This made him shiver. He looked up, “Grantaire.”<br/>
As their eyes met, both of them froze. It was as if there were whole worlds within their eyes, and through them, they saw their past. It all unravelled before them.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The barricade day</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The thunderous bangings against the barricaded door cracked louder and louder. The National Guards were going to get through; it was inevitable.</p><p>Inside the room, there were only two people left: Enjolras and Grantaire. They were holding hands with a tightening grip as the sounds of their near deaths tried to barge themselves in.</p><p>This was going to be their last day. They were cornered.</p><p>Grantaire’s breathing became uneasy, depending on Enjolras for balance. The man was stiff and upright as he prepared for death. Once more, Grantaire was in awe of the beauty of him. Even when awaiting death, the man was sure, confident, and heroic. The whispers in his head reminded him that this was going to be their last moment. If he wanted to say anything, he could. From the bottom of his heart, he could reveal everything. Everything… He took a deep breath as he separated their hands- he wanted to look him in the eyes. “Enjolras, I--”<br/>
Noise of the door being almost fully destroyed pierced through his dialogue, cutting him off. </p><p>The National Guards’ presence was becoming more and more alarming. Grantaire held his breath in fear of the danger outside.</p><p>As if to calm him, Enjolras pulled him into a tight hug. There was hardly enough room to breathe, yet the two pulled each other closer, wanting to consume one another. They were terrified of what would come next. They only had each other for comfort. Each other to remind them of everything they loved. Everything they fought for. They clawed at each others’ backs, trying to bring themselves closer to the other. In desperation, Enjolras muttered in Grantaire’s hair. He spoke as if he was finally able to breathe after drowning for so many years.</p><p>At last, the door was completely destroyed. The Guards ran in only to be taken back as they were faced with two men hugging each other tightly, as if they were to become one. The Guards aimed their guns at the two. Yet, Grantaire began to laugh. So did Enjolras. They laughed in utter happiness as they clenched each other. Their hearts beat in one.</p><p>“Fire!” One of them ordered.</p><p>As planned, Enjolras pivoted to make his back face the scatter of Guards as his last attempt to protect him. Enjolras fell on top of the drunkard as they both hit the floor. He was unable to save the man. However until his death, Grantaire’s smile shone as a tear fell out of his eye. The last thing he remembered was Heaven; the moment Enjolras muttered the special words in his ear. “I love you, R. So much.”<br/>
Death wasn’t so bad afterall, he thought before his last exhale.</p><p>The two passed away at the same time.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>It's hailing where I am at rn. Even the sky weeps for them</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. The present day</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Grantaire stared deep into Enjolras’ blue eyes. There was hope and satisfaction mixed with regret and pain. There were so much expressed in a limited form. Yet his eyes shined beautifully; he couldn’t help but watch him, shocked by what he remembered. It couldn’t be real…<br/>
“Did you…?” Enjolras breathed.<br/>
They were still close to one another, neither of them moving away. There was this sense of comfort the other radiated in which they wanted to be nearer to.<br/>
“Yes.” Grantaire knew what he was going to say.<br/>

</p>
<p>They had just seen men who were in love who died together gleefully. The men who wore their faces.<br/>
“I…” He furrowed his eyebrows, not comprehending he was capable of loving someone so much. Enjolras had died trying to protect the one he loved, even when he knew his attempts would not succeed, he tried nevertheless. It was illogical. Yet it was love.<br/>
Grantaire began to smile as he gently reached out for his hand. Softly, their hands enveloped each other, elegant like wings. “You’re here.” He couldn’t believe his luck.</p><p>When their hands met, they felt their hearts beat in one, just like their past lives. But this time, they weren’t ever going to let go. They finally found each other again. Through logic, through established understanding of time and life, their love prevailed. So why on earth would they let go?</p>
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